


Roseblood

by Falcolmreynolds



Series: Stories of the Wide Sky Clan [6]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Bad Parenting, F/M, Gen, M/M, child... neglect i guess? is the best way to put it re: poor Luna, gallica is the worst mom. ever., what do you call "being put in the hibernation prison since hatchday"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcolmreynolds/pseuds/Falcolmreynolds
Relationships: Gallica/Duskrunner, Reefglider/Hinterland
Series: Stories of the Wide Sky Clan [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768582
Kudos: 1





	1. Dunelands

It was a trap, of course, but she could lay it anywhere she wanted. Magic woven carefully into a binding, designed to immobilize, with a neat little self-destruct built in to cleanse the area of her tag when she was through.

She almost felt bad about it. Hinterland was a nice enough dragon; he hadn't done her any wrong. But of course, that was why she had to kill _him_ , not anyone else. If she killed one of her rivals, they'd suspect her. No - an innocent dragon, that's what she needed.

She'd taken careful note of patrol charts and monitored Hinterland's schedule. She knew where he liked to be, and she knew that today was the day. Her target was going to be alone down by the river, waiting for the day to pass by so his boyfriend would be done with patrol and able to join him again. His little spot was also very close to the route Duskrunner would take heading from the Wide Sky territory towards the Isles. That was also what she needed.

She waited, patient, as Duskrunner left. Then she gave herself an alibi - a half-written performance on her desk, a few little illusions of her in her chambers. They knew not to bother her when she was scripting, and she'd be back before the news even came close to breaking. They wouldn't disturb her.

That complete, Gallica put a notice on her chamber door that indicated she wasn't to be bothered and locked it (though of course through the door's little glass peephole anyone looking in would see her curled up at her desk, muttering to herself), then slipped out through the largest of the windows in her cavern.

She had everything she needed. With a grin, humorless smile, Gallica swept her cloak around herself, becoming invisible, and winged away.

* * *

Hinterland peered into the deep, peaceful waters of the river. "Did you find anything?" He called, and through the water came a young maren with a brilliant red tail and darker coppery hair.

"Not yet," she said. Her name was Vhaareni, and she was one of Hinterland's few friends. "I'm gonna have to do a little more digging. It's pretty silty down there!"

"Oh, sure, of course," Hinterland said. "Take your time. We have… all day, pretty much."

They were looking for brine conchs, just upriver from the ocean. If there were any discarded shells, they were prized gifts, and Hinterland wanted one for Reefglider, who wouldn't be off patrol until sunset. A perfect opportunity to go searching.

He'd been looking for a brine conch for a while now, and had spent at least six full days looking between his own tasks. Maybe today would be the day!

"I did find this," Vhaareni said, and deposited a live crab on the rock before her.

"Oh!" said Hinterland, bending his head down to peer at the crab. It raised its claws, threatening. "Awww."

"I know, right? Back you go, buddy." Vhaareni tossed the crab back into the water. It scuttled away into the shallows and buried itself in the sand. "I'll do another pass," the sorceress said. "Poke through a little more thoroughly. But then we should check a different area."

"Yeah, of course," Hinterland said, nodding. "I'll be right here."

Vhaareni nodded, then dipped back under the surface. The muddy river waters from here spilled into the sea; Hinterland could hear the crashing waves from here. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warm air and the sound of the ocean.

After a few minutes, he'd almost begun to doze off when a rustling sounded in the grass behind him. He blinked his eyes open and turned, peering at the dune grass. “Hello?” he called, but got his claws ready - if it was an enemy, or an unfriendly animal, he’d better be ready to fight them off!

But, no - through the grasses came a dragon. A familiar dragon, too, one from his home. He relaxed. “Oh, hi, Gallica,” he said, folding his wings back in. He settled onto the sand. “What’s up?”

“Hello, Hinterland,” Gallica said, shaking her cloak down around her shoulders. “How are you, today?”

“Oh, I’m okay. It’s a nice day. How about you?”

“That’s good to hear,” Gallica said, and ignored his question. She trotted forward, around him, and circled him, looking around the area. “What are you doing out here?”

“Me? Oh, um, looking for brine conchs,” Hinterland replied. “I want to find one for Reef.”

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Gallica said, but it sounded… almost more like she was talking to herself. Hinterland shifted, twisting his head around to follow her as she walked around him, then turning it all the way around to the other side to keep his eyes on her, curious. “As a present?”

“Yeah,” Hinterland said, staring at nothing, with a smile. “I know he’ll love one. An uninhabited one! I don’t want to steal a crab’s house.”

“Of course not,” Gallica said. “How rude that would be. Hinterland, have you seen Duskrunner?”

Duskrunner? But Gallica didn’t like Duskrunner very much, or so he thought. Why would she want to find him? “Um… yeah, I think so? He ran off towards the Isles with a full message satchel a few hours ago.”

Gallica nodded. “That’s good to know,” she said, still circling Hinterland. He began to feel slightly nervous, though he couldn’t say why. “You see, he’s done something terrible, and he ought to be caught and charged for it.”

“What? What happened?” Hinterland started to get up, but Gallica made a little clicking noise with her mouth and shushed him, and he lay back down, worried now. “What did he do?”

“He killed someone, Hinterland,” Gallica said, somber. “He killed someone, and now he’s running from his crimes.”

Hinterland’s head spun. “Wh - huh?! He - he what? He wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh, he would,” Gallica crooned.

“But - no, he, he wouldn’t do that. Who - ?”

“Who did he kill? Is that what you’d like to know?”

Hinterland felt trapped. Something was very wrong here. “Who did he kill?” he asked, his mouth dry.

“You, Hinterland,” Gallica purred, behind his head, and then she struck.

The blade wasn’t exactly a blade; it was a wildclaw’s killing claw attached to a handle. Hinterland tried to cry out and get away, but by this time the magic Gallica had been weaving had him, and he couldn’t escape. He couldn’t even move, like he’d been bound with rope and tied in place.

“Help!” he tried, but his voice was a gurgle in his throat, and his jaw was shut tight; he couldn’t open it. He felt the claw slice into his shoulder and side, trace down along his ribs, then pull away again.

“They’re about to find your blood, Hinterland, and your body,” Gallica purred. “And once they do, they’re going to realize the only wildclaw who could’ve done this is gone. And they’re going to be waiting for him when he comes back, and he will take my son’s place in that wretched prison below earth.”

What?! Hinterland whimpered, softly, his eyes flicking around. He watched Gallica step up in front of him, one forepaw holding the dagger. She gently hooked it under his chin and lifted his head; he let out a pathetic little choking noise, terrified.

“It’s a shame it had to be you,” Gallica said, “but they would’ve maybe been suspicious of me. Now they won’t be. Sorry, Hinterland, but you’re more useful to me dead than alive.”

She smiled and twitched the dagger, and he let out a cry and tried with all his might to pull away. Nothing. In a quick stroke Gallica ran the dagger down his neck.

“So it begins,” Gallica murmured, watching Hinterland’s lifeblood pour out onto the ground in front of her. “A necessary sacrifice. Anything for my Luna.”

 _Who is Luna?!_ Hinterland thought frantically, unable to speak. He could feel the blood on his chest, could see it on the sand. _Please, please, let me go! I didn’t do anything wrong! Please, I don’t - I don’t want to die!_

But nobody could hear him.

Gallica said nothing else while Hinterland slowly lost consciousness. When he finally went limp, she released the binding spells and his body flopped onto the ground. Then she kicked up sand and dust everywhere, made sure his blood was a spectacle, and erased any of her own footprints.

As a final touch, she pulled a small packet from her belt and unwrapped a few blue feathers from a white cloth: Duskrunner’s feathers. These she scattered on the ground, half-burying them in the sand that had been kicked up, and wedged one of them in a bush.

Perfect. It was so obvious that Duskrunner had done this. With her trail laid, she removed all traces of her spellwork and backed into the grasses. Now she just had to go home, remain in her chambers except for meals, and wait for the news to arrive.

Gallica slipped her shroud back over herself, shaking the invisibility over her feathers. She disappeared, but the grasses bent as she passed through them, and fluttered in her wake as she spread her wings and leaped into the air, flying back towards the Wide Sky clan central caverns.

For a few moments, everything was still. Then there was a ripple in the water and Vhaareni surfaced, her eyes enormous, terror on her face. Hinterland had just been murdered. Murdered! She looked to him - 

Wait a second. The blood pooling from his wounds was still coming in spurts. That meant his heart was still beating. Was he breathing?! Vhaareni didn’t debate her course of action - she powered towards the shore and hauled herself out of the water, rolling and crawling over the sand to reach him.

He was still alive, barely. In an instant, Vhaareni cast a stasis on him, preventing further changes. She had to keep him safe, had to get help - but she couldn’t get help! And she couldn’t just leave him here!

She’d have to wait until… until someone came looking for him, yes, and then, she’d have to attract their attention and get assistance. But - she couldn’t leave him where he was now. It was a bad idea to move the critically wounded, but at any moment, Gallica could come back and finish the job. No, she had to move Hinterland, now.

Vhaareni grabbed hold of his shoulders and began to very, very slowly haul him back across the sand. It was all she could do to move him, and she had to use magic to do it, levitating his body and sliding it over the sticky, blood-stained grains. But she did get him to the river’s edge, and it was all easier from there. He’d be safe in the delta, concealed, waiting for a chance for a healer to arrive. Besides, she was better at keeping his stasis running in the water. It was her home; she belonged here, and so it answered to her.

Into the river with him. She felt the water circle around his wounds and work to keep them still; to keep him locked in time, unable to die until there was a healer who could save him. Her heart hammered in her ears. Any moment, Gallica could return and strike her down, too, and then neither of them would live.

But the coatl did not come back. Vhaareni got Hinterland into the water and pulled him downstream, floating his not-yet-but-almost corpse down a ways to a small island with a little alcove puddle. She pushed him into the puddle, and then set about weaving a better stasis.

It was going to take all her magic, all her power to keep him alive. But it was worth it. Hinterland was one of her best friends; she wasn’t about to let him succumb to an attack by a mad coatl with a vendetta. He didn’t deserve that!

But she couldn’t signal if all her power was used like this. That… that was fine. She’d just have to hope someone found them.

With a nervous breath, Vhaareni poured her magic into the spell she’d woven, then closed her eyes and sank into it. _Someone find us,_ she prayed. _Someone find us…_


	2. First Strike

Gallica made it safely back to clan and slipped in through the window she’d left unlocked, invisible. From there, she cleaned her shaking claws in the washbasin, then sat down, at her desk… to continue writing that script.

That’s all she could do. That was all she could do now, to avoid suspicion. She did see a clanmate or two peer in through her window while she was working, but they didn’t try to talk to her. Her claws were trembling, and she’d hucked the killing-claw into the ocean, but she still felt like she could see blood on her hands.

No - she wasn’t going to start thinking like that. No. That was the kind of thing  _ insane _ people thought, and she wasn’t going to start seeing blood on the walls or some such nonsense. Hinterland’s death was regrettable, but necessary. It would all be worth it in the end.

It was around sunset when she heard someone shouting in the hallway. That had to be someone raising an alarm.

Gallica took a few breaths, and controlled her emotions. The skydancers of the clan would be able to detect if she were lying, unless she controlled herself - and she’d practiced, researching how to ensure that skydancers couldn’t pick up on her honesty… or lack of.

She composed herself, took a few breaths, spattered ink on her beautiful feathers, and tried to wash some of it off. She didn’t like having ink on her feathers; it was a dirty mess, and she wasn’t a fan of it. So… to make this all more realistic…

No one even noticed her when she unlocked her door, flicking inky water off her feather tips, and peered out, cross, as someone ran past. “What’s all the shouting about?” she called. “I’m in the  _ middle _ of something!”

“Sorry!” yelled Liryn, in response. “But, uh, we got a situation!”

Gallica stared after her, and was going to ask what the ‘situation’ was, but Liryn was gone already.

It was only a few minutes after that that someone came by her chambers: Whirligig, one of the clan’s greatest fighters and scouts. “Gallica,” she called, in the coatl’s door, “have you seen Hinterland today?”

“Hm? Hinterland?” Gallica frowned and shook her head. “No, not at all. I don’t think he comes around this area very often. Why?”

“He’s missing,” Whirligig fretted. “He’s missing, and Reefglider is extremely worried. He was supposed to meet him, you know, after Reef’s patrol, but Hinterland never showed…”

“Oh, dear,” Gallica said. “I hope he’s alright?”

“So do I. He’s probably… he probably just forgot.” She looked worried, twisting herself into a knot as she clung to the side of the door, then unraveling into a long spiral form again. “He doesn’t forget things like that, though. He’s never…”

She trailed off, then shook her head. “I’m sure he’ll turn up before too long. Thanks anyway, Galli.”

“Of course, dear,” Gallica said. Whirligig fluttered off down the hall.

She’d lied expertly. Now, she just had to keep doing that, and no one - no one at all - would be the wiser.

With a breath, she glanced over to the corner of her room, where in a few boxes of performance outfits she’d hidden something precious: one of Myrial’s scales. She knew the mage would be the one to test the blood and try to find Hinterland when they discovered the scene of the crime. When that happened, she could use that to enact the second part of her plan.

Yes. Yes, yes. Everything was working well so far.

“Don’t get overconfident, and don’t get lazy,” she told herself, going back to her desk. “It’s when you get lazy that you misstep and ruin the dance.”

Yes. That was right. She had to keep up the act. Gallica smiled. She was very,  _ very _ good at acting; she’d be able to manage. She picked up her quill again, one of her own brilliant feathers, and set back to work on her manuscript.

* * *

By midnight, the clan was in a mild uproar. This was the most active it had been since that business with Satin, when he’d gone missing. Though this time, it wasn’t interference from the Sky; someone had already sought Larkspur out, and gotten her confirmation that it had  _ nothing _ to do with the Outer Sea or the Sky. Satin, too, had asked his passenger - which made Gallica nervous - and gotten no helpful response.

Hinterland had not reappeared. Reefglider was insistent that something had happened to him, demanding that they help him search for the lost banescale. Windracer, the clan’s matriarch, was involved now, and she too seemed worried about the fate of the young dragon. After all, Hinterland was one of the true banescales, the ones who had escaped that secret cavern in the Wastes, thousands of years old and finally hatched once their stasis was broken. He carried part of the song of the elders in his heart, and he only knew as parents the clan who had raised him. 

So everyone was worried. Gallica copied their emotions - she was, of course, an  _ excellent _ actor - and fit right in, blending.

A search party left before dawn. They took lanterns and fireflies, and set out, following what little seer-magic they could scrape together. Now, Gallica knew, they wished they still had Bhyram, who could find a burnt-out match in a blizzard; but he was gone, left to live with some skydancer who’d helped beat the emperor, or whatever.

The Wide Sky clan was now strained, wary. That feeling only grew around noon, when Monolith appeared, making her way back to the center as fast as she could. Windracer - and most of the clan - met her out in the open, worried.

“Oh, no,” murmured Raphide, from where he stood. Whirligig wasn’t with him - she was on patrol today - but he was out here anyway, for once ignoring his experiments in order to keep up to date on the news for his mate.

Monolith’s sides were heaving as she landed and trotted to a halt, finally planting her feet and hanging her head, gasping for air. “One minute,” she managed.

“Breathe,” Windracer ordered her, and she nodded, gulping air. She hadn’t looked this young in a while, Gallica noted.

Reefglider barreled through the crowd, pushing past several dragons to confront her. “What have you found?” he demanded, frantic. Several nearby skydancers shifted uncomfortably.

Monolith raised her head, looked him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Reef, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no no,” Reefglider started, and Gallica felt a twinge of regret as she watched him crumple into the grass. “No…”

“We didn’t - didn’t find a body,” Monolith gasped out, though she seemed to finally be getting her breath back. “But we found - a lot of blood. A  _ lot _ of blood. Too much… to live.”

They didn’t find a body? Gallica covered her confusion with a well-acted horrified gasp, putting a forepaw over her mouth, like half the clan did. That was strange - she knew she’d left the body there. Had someone else found it?! No - no, it couldn’t be, unless they were from a rival clan. It must have been animals, dragged it away. But Hinterland was  _ massive _ for a banescale; it would’ve been very, very hard to move him.

But if it had been a dragon, they’d know! No - she couldn’t think about this now. If she did, she might tip off the skydancers, though they were probably distracted at the moment.

“No, no,” Reefglider moaned, going limp. “No…”

“Reef, I’m so sorry. I - we’re going to keep looking, but… it’s probable that scavengers -”

Reefglider wailed wordlessly and buried his head in his paws, already in tears. Monolith winced and stopped talking. Windracer, her face set hard, moved over and lay down next to him, wrapping a wing around his form. Of course - she was his grandmother. He was as dear to her as any other of her descendants. She nosed his shoulder, very, very gently, and though there was sorrow and pity on her face, it was underscored by a cold, stone blankness.

Gallica would have been worried, if her plan weren’t so solid.

Aelius came through the crowd. He’d followed his son, and now saw the scene and knew. He moved up and laid on Reef’s other side, trying to comfort the young guardian. Monolith looked away, her crests flat.

With a quiet, pained growl, Aelius looked up to her. “Who did this?” he asked.

“We… we aren’t sure,” Monolith said, “but…”

“But what? Tell me.” Aelius’ claws tore through the grass and earth. “I want to know who’s done this.” He loved Hinterland as much as he loved his own son; it was clear to the whole clan that Hinterland and Reef were to be mated. Or… would have been, had Hinterland not just died. Aelius was furious, at the loss of his son’s mate, at the loss of a beloved clan member.

“...we found… evidence,” Monolith said. “Feathers at the scene.”

A heavy silence fell over the clan. Monolith took a breath. “Blue and black. And a bit of a trail, leading to the northeast. We… with the age of the blood, and the scuffle in the sand, we think… we think it might have been Duskrunner.”

Shock spread through the assembled crowd. “Duskrunner?!” someone asked, hushed. “But wh - why?!”

Several clanmates looked to Gallica, who put on her best face of shock, horror, and disgust. “What?” she said, barely breathing. “He - no, he wouldn’t - he wouldn’t do…”

She trailed off. Kuona, across the circle, met her eyes, looking terrified. Gallica spread a wing, and Kuona hurried over as quickly as she could with her metal legs, shaking. Gallica wrapped a wing around her, comforting; she’d forgotten that this would probably shatter Kuona’s faith in Duskrunner. Oh well. That didn’t really matter; it wasn’t as if she had that much to begin with.

“Galli, did you… did you know he…”

“No,” Gallica said, adding just the right amount of rough, choking fear and pain to her voice. “I - he’d never kill anybody. Right? I - I mean, I  _ know _ him. Or… I did.” She swallowed, lower her crests, upset. “I - no, oh no, he wouldn’t…”

“We didn’t find a weapon, but all wildclaws have killing claws,” Monolith said, quietly. “It… it might have been him. We don’t know, but he… may have murdered Hinterland.”

_ “Why?!” _ Kuona blurted out, her eyes full of tears. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” Monolith said, shaking her head. “Regardless, I’m here to get Mom. We want to make sure the blood is his.”

On the ground, Reef let out another choked sob. Windracer whispered something soothing in another language to him, though it didn’t seem to have much effect. She looked to Aelius, her son, her expression grave. “Get Myrial, and find out quickly,” she said, looking back to Monolith. “I want Duskrunner brought back here, as soon as possible.”

“My lady,” said a cool, purring voice - Pelagia. She stepped forward, eyes glittering. “Shall I go and fetch him for you?”

Aelius raised his head. “Find him, and drag him back,” he growled.

Windracer looked between him, Pelagia, and poor Reefglider, and nodded once. “Go,” she said. “You know what to do.”

Kuona began to cry, and buried her head in Gallica’s chest feathers. Gallica stroked her daughter’s crest, shushing her softly, holding back her own very realistic tears.

“Pelagia will track him down. Meanwhile, I don’t want anyone here at risk,” Windracer continued. “We stay together, and we stay safe. Patrols will have more people, and no one goes alone. We’ll sort this out later. For now, I want Myrial checking to see whose blood it is you’ve found, and if it is our Hinterland… we will lock our territory down until Duskrunner is found and brought back. Pelagia, if you lose the trail, return  _ immediately. _ ”

“I swear it,” Pelagia said, and looked to Monolith. “Take me to the site. I will follow him.”

Gallica had laid a trail of scent from the site of the attack to Duskrunner’s route out of the clan territory, which she had memorized over the years of seeing him take it. She’d erased her own presence, painstakingly destroyed her tracks and scent markers, cleaned up every scrap of spare magic. 

Pelagia would find a trail;  _ his  _ trail. And she would follow it. And she would, most likely, find him. He’d deny everything, of course, but Pelagia wasn’t going to care about what he said; she never listened to her targets, only to Windracer. That’s why she was so good at what she did. She didn’t care for stories or excuses. Her job was to find the dragon and bring them back, and then they could make their case to the clan’s matriarch.

Then, either they’d find him guilty… or they wouldn’t, and Gallica would flee. But by  _ that _ point Luna would be safe with her.

For now, she simply ran her claws through Kuona’s feathers, shaking her head, allowing several tears to drip down her face. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I… I don’t understand…”

Someone moved up beside her - Burnish. “I’m going to talk to Reef,” she said, softly. “Gallica, maybe you and Kuona ought to go back to the caverns. Cirinus?”

“With you,” Cirrinus said immediately, appearing from the crowd. He swept one dark wing around Gallica and Kuona, and escorted them back to the caverns. Gallica spent the next little while performing her greatest show, and succeeded in getting Cirinus to leave her alone with Kuona; then, she put Kuona to sleep in her nest of pillows and blankets. Kuona, distraught, fell asleep quickly.

Leaving Gallica alone.

She rushed to the chest and tore through the cloths. There - down there, buried, is one of Myrial’s scales. Gallica pulled it out, her breath quick in her chest, and put it on the ground and just  _ watched _ it. It would light up when Myrial was doing her detection magics; that was when she would activate the trap she’d left, buried under the sand, very, very carefully hidden.

Minutes passed. Minutes. Gallica watched. And then - a pinkish shimmer on the scale. Gallica smiled, reached forward, and tapped a claw on the scale. The pink shimmer flared up, then went out. That was all. But Gallica knew what had happened. Myrial’s magic had reacted with Gallica’s leftover, non-entity-tagged spell, and with a little bit of agitation, it would blow up in her face and knock her out, potentially for several days.

Which is  _ exactly _ what Gallica wanted. She put the scale back, hid it under the clothes, and went back to Kuona to wait for the next step, curling around her as any loving mother would.


	3. Jailbreak

Myrial was taken to the infirmary. Gallica heard the commotion as several dragons flew her unconscious form in, and saw them hurry her to the medical ward, where Aurelai immediately started to check her over.

She knew what they would find: it was some kind of shock, some kind of induced state. They would not be able to find a cause for it. Magical? Probably. That was something that had bothered Gallica; that they might suspect her instead of Duskrunner, because he had little magical talent. But she _also_ figured it wouldn’t matter that much. She was about to cast suspicion off herself by disappearing - and if Duskrunner were Hinterland’s killer, it wasn’t out of the question that he be hers, too.

She _did_ need Kuona out of her room, though, so she woke her daughter and sent her down to the kitchens to get something to eat from Ironwood. Once Kuona was gone, Gallica set the scene.

Kuona would be down crying on Ironwood for, oh, probably an hour or so. That gave her some time. Gallica needed to get moving _now,_ so she could get herself and Luna out and away before the scene was discovered. She locked her door, took a breath, and began to pull out some of her feathers.

First, a handful of her own bright pink and glittering violet feathers, complete with at least one big, beautiful flight feather. Then a fair bit of blood, from her side near the wing joint (not quite enough to make her dizzy, though!), which she bandaged easily after bleeding with one of her own claws. She spattered that on the floor and one wall, threw her blankets over the floor… and then, the real kicker: she pulled from a chest, where she’d kept it hidden, a perfect copy of her shroud. She’d never leave without it willingly. Gallica carefully hooked a claw through the fabric and tore it, then tossed it onto the floor, with a little extra spatter of blood just for effect. A few scattered papers, a broken inkwell, a snapped quill and several torn sheets of parchment, and… perfect.

Then she took her real shroud, settled it over herself, and left via the window. This time, she left it open. She smeared a bit of blood on the windowsill as a final touch. The wind that curled in caused several of the papers to flutter around, adding a nice touch of natural chaos to the scene. Gallica smiled.

Very carefully, she went around the side of her cavern and back into the main hallways of the clan’s central. From there, she took the most circuitous route that wasn’t absurdly slow, ducking into rooms to wait as other clanmates passed. As she’d hoped, the clan was mostly focused on Myrial. She was one of the founding members of the clan, after all, and her current state was cause for panic. This had never happened to her before. This whole situation was brand new - there had never, ever been a _murder_ in the clan’s history. _And now,_ Gallica thought, _there are two. Hinterland’s… and mine, for as long as they believe mine, anyway._

No one noticed her slinking invisibly down to the Deep Caves. When she reached them, no one was even standing guard at the dim entryway - all warriors had been pulled to protect the territory edges. Gallica simply walked in, easy as that.

The magic here was weak, she could feel it. Far weaker than it should have been, than it usually was. Myrial’s power was solid, and the stasis spells weren’t failing, exactly, but they were definitely _weaker._ Weak enough for Gallica to mold them like soft clay. Perfect. _Perfect._

Gallica ignored every other dragon there, curled in their little chambers - _prison cells, but some of them are more comfortable, do they even realize they’re trapped here? Do they even realize they can’t escape without someone letting them go?_ \- and made a beeline for Luna’s cell. He was there, of course, curled up, asleep. Gallica paused, her breath in her throat.

“I’m here,” she whisper-hummed, gaze fixed on her son. “I’m here, sweetheart. It’s time for you to wake up.”

With that, she tapped into the spell structure and wove a hole in it. It wasn’t easy, but she’d practiced; she moved the magic out of the way, like sweeping snow off a windowsill, holding it up around her. Finally, she could see her son, without the interference of the barrier in the way.

He was so much older now. An adult, his body sustained and powered by the stasis, but a very young adult, his growth slowed to a glacial rate. He looked… maybe a year and a half old, if that. So young. So vulnerable. Along his sides, his eyes began to open; once disrupted, his stasis was now failing, wearing off.

Gallica hurried forward. She laid a hand on her son’s forehead and cast a spell: a charm, to make him obey. Just for now, just so she could get him safely out. Later, she’d take it off, once he was safe. Once she was sure he wouldn’t hurt himself, or do something ridiculous.

His eyes opened, slowly, then quicker. Gallica traced a symbol on his forehead, like a bridle or a halter, a series of green-pink lines of her magic that followed where she moved her clawtip. Over his eyes, around his horns, around his jaw, keeping his mouth shut and his mind dull. For now, of course, only for now.

He twitched as she finished the spell, the rest of his eyes opening, beginning to look around. Was he wanting to get up and run? No, no, they wouldn’t do that. “Here, Luna,” Gallica said, in the humming native coatl tongue, and gave him a kiss on his bound forehead. “It’s me, your mother. I’m finally saving you, sweetheart. Finally. I’m sorry it’s been so long. I should’ve come and got you sooner, but I had to make the plans, and I had to be brave enough for it. I wasn’t brave enough to save you until now.”

Luna did not answer. He searched her eyes with several of his, the pale green fixed on her own, and relaxed slightly.

“That’s right,” she cooed, and hugged him. “That’s my son. See? I’m here to help you. But we have to hurry, or someone might try to find us before we can escape.”

Luna cocked his head to the side, listening intently.

“Very good!” she told him, delighted. He was listening so well already! True, that was probably due to the magic, but still! The hard part was over. Gallica beamed at him, then circled around him and lay down on the ground. “Let me carry you,” she told him. “You won’t make it out of here on your own, and you need me. Besides, I know where to go from here. Up, on my back, now, Luna.”

He obeyed. It was hard for him at first to stand; he was weak, as the stasis may have kept him alive, but it didn’t keep him as healthy as it could have. Another failure on the part of Myrial and this clan. Gallica had to fight down her own emotions, keep herself from snarling in disgust; she didn’t want to frighten poor Luna, or make him think she was angry at him. Never! She’d never do that. So she fought the feeling down and waited as he struggled to his feet and stood, wobbly, unsteady.

He’d not even been able to really stand when he’d been taken from her the first time. Again, Gallica fought down emotions, but this time it was a rush of cold rage and loss. He had never stood before in his life, never, and was doing so now, for the first time.

And it was in a situation where he was going to have to flee for his life. Gallica’s heart ached; what kind of life was this? What kind of existence? Because Duskrunner had wanted him imprisoned, because _Duskrunner_ hadn’t had the motivation or dedication to seek out a cure?

But he didn’t _need_ a cure. What he needed was _control._ And she could teach him that, now. Duskrunner had only ever sought to get rid of his last son. Gallica knew she could help him still. She could turn him into someone incredible.

Luna wobbled where he stood, but instinct in wildclaws was strong, and he got his footing and stood. He stretched out one wing, experimental, then the other, then looked back to her.

“Come on,” she said, indicating her back. “Up you go.”

He blinked - many times - and moved over, each step hesitant. He almost fell once, and Gallica had to whip her tail around and catch him, but he made to her side. He leaned on her, and she had to stop and catch her breath, tears pricking at her eyes.

Her son. Her _son,_ her precious child, who she’d been kept away from all this time. She reached out with one forepaw and rested her claws on the side of his face. He stared back at her, uncomprehending, confused. Dull, but that, again, was due to the magic. That would change. Probably.

“Oh, Luna,” she sighed, trying not to cry. “My sweet Luna. We’ll get out of here, okay, sweetheart? Climb up, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Luna didn’t nod to answer, but turned his head, then tried to scramble up her side, hopping clumsily, flailing his wings. Just like a hatchling would. Gallica waited as patiently as she could, but she was fighting both her own emotions and the knowledge that, with every passing minute, the likelihood of her room being discovered was growing greater and greater.

She felt him settle into her feathers, and she stood and walked out of his cell, then turned around and used a wing to sweep the magic back into place. She even left a cursory illusion there, a splotch of color that looked like him. That way, anybody passing by wouldn’t notice he was gone unless they looked closely.

The magic in the Deep Caves was ever so slightly off-kilter, but Gallica didn’t notice. She wasn’t an arcane dragon; she knew magic well, but not well _enough._ As she wound through the caves to their exit, using her shroud to drape them both in invisibility, she didn’t notice that the shimmer on some of the other chambers had changed somewhat, become less distorting, less solid. She didn’t notice that several of the devices placed around the main cavern of the Deep Caves had slightly different lights than before, just ever so slightly, indicating a subtle, barely noticeable, but significant change in the functionality of the magic.

She didn’t notice it, no. She only had eyes for guards - and for her precious son, who now sat quietly between her wings, light as a feather and perfectly calm. Gallica hurried as smoothly as she could to the nearest exit from the caverns, away from as much of the clan activity as she could, and then she snuck down to one of the seldom-used takeoff/landing fields.

“Hold on,” she told Luna, and felt him latch his claws into her feathers. “This will be a little bit bumpy, but you should be alright.”

With that, she got a running start, then took off, boosting her flight with wind magic. She grinned so widely as she went that her face hurt - her plan had worked. It had worked, and she had her son, and she was headed to a remote cavern that nobody even knew existed, and once _there_ she’d be able to care for him as she never had before! They were _free!_

After that, they could leave the Plateau. Find somewhere else to go, maybe. Find new people to be around. New lives.

The Wide Sky clan was behind her now, Gallica knew. Never again would she be trapped or confined by their limitations, by the people around her. From now on, she and Luna would be free. She could go anywhere, do anything! And he would be right there with her, doing everything she said, by her side. Like a good son. Out of love, of course.

Gallica kept the breeze around her, so as not to reveal her scent to anyone following after her, and escaped.


	4. Search...

It had been six days since Hinterland’s murder, five since Gallica’s. The clan was stressed, afraid, and confused. Presumably, Duskrunner had done it - who else would target Gallica, leaving her quarters destroyed, her blood smeared on the floor and window? - but Pelagia hadn’t returned to the clan territory, and she very, very rarely lost a trail. Had he doubled back and lost her? Was she on him even now, hunting him? Were they both dead? Was it all a lie? What was  _ going on? _

Reefglider had quietly pulled himself from every patrol. Nobody blamed him. The first day after Hinterland’s murder, he lay, wracked with sorrow, in his cavern, staring out at the cliffs that overlooked the distant beaches and the Sea of a Thousand Currents. His mate was gone. His mate was  _ gone. _

But… they’d never found his body. So - so… what if he was still out there?

It was a foolish hope. He knew that. It was foolish, but he was going to cling to it anyway, because the second day after Hinterland’s murder he spent the entire thing sitting next to the window, numb and unfeeling, staring at nothing. It was only once Burnish had come by to speak to him that he slipped back into reality.

“Reef,” she’d said, softly, placing a claw on his shoulder. “Reef. Look at me.”

He had, listless, unable to cope with everything around him. She’d shaken her head gently, searching his eyes.

“Listen, Reef,” she had said, softly. “I know this is hard. I know this hurts.”

He’d looked away again. He didn’t want to hear it.

“But…” she’d paused, as if considering what to say. “Well, if you ask me - and you didn’t, but I’m going to tell you anyway - I’m not… so sure about all this.”

That was… not what he’d expected. He’d looked back to her. What was she saying?

“It’s suspicious,” she said, “that a banescale as big as Hinterland could’ve been dragged away by… predators, or scavengers, or whatever the scouts think happened. It’s suspicious. And the sand marks pointed towards the river. I don’t know if what they think happened actually… happened.”

Reef managed to speak. “What’re you saying?” he’d asked her, voice hoarse from his crying.

“I mean,” she said carefully, “that unless some very powerful creatures decided to take Hinterland into the water, he either took himself to the river, or someone else moved him. Duskrunner would’ve been too small, with not enough magic to lift him. I think there’s something we don’t know.” She shook her head. “And it goes against everything I know for me to tell you this - because my job is not to give you false hopes, but help you deal with the current situation - but something just doesn’t feel… right about all this. And I don’t trust the facts we have so far.”

Reef blinked. “You… you think he’s still… alive? Out there?”

“I’m saying there is a faint possibility that that  _ might _ be the case.”

That had been all Reefglider had needed. He’d already pulled himself off all patrols, but now, he would embark on his own. He’d search everywhere for Hinterland, he’d - he’d find him. He’d find him. He had to find him. If for nothing else than to be sure he was really gone. But the possibility that he could still be out there -

His heart burned, and he could feel himself about to burst into tears every time he thought about the possibility that Hinterland was really, truly gone. He had to hold on to hope. He had to hold on to the hope that Burnish’s hunch was right and something wasn’t as it should be.

He started at all of the places where Hinterland would go. Their regular hangouts - the dunes that Hinterland loved so much, Reef’s favorite beaches and sandbars, the huge sycamore that grew incongruously close to the ocean where Reef had first told Hinter he loved him. With each location, each passing day, Reefglider’s hope began to fade again.

But he had to hold on to it. He had to hold on. He had to keep believing that there was some way, some impossible way, for Hinter to still be out there. He had to keep searching. There was no point in wasting time, now. He stopped returning to the clan center at night - he  _ had _ to keep  _ looking. _ He could find him, he knew it. He just had to keep looking. Just one more dune, just one more sweep over a beach, just one more patch of trees… Just one more…

* * *

Deep below the Wide Sky clan, something magical shifted. It was fading, slowly but steadily, and soon, it would falter and fail altogether.

* * *

Duskrunner perked up when he saw the green of the Reedcleft Ascent before him. The bridges and rope walkways that were strung through the pillars of stone indicated he was nearly home; the thought brought him joy.

He enjoyed being in the Plateau. The peace of the place, the music and color in the air, the life around him. A festive, party atmosphere if he wanted one; a peaceful, contemplated air if he preferred that instead. He could find peace there.

Even with the bad memories he had, there were also good ones. He had a great many good experiences in the Plateau, and it was his home. He was glad to be back.

Passing the Ascent took most of the day. It was an hour after noon or so, when he’d stopped to catch something light to eat, that he started to get the feeling like he was being watched. It felt like someone had their eyes on him, though he couldn’t figure out who, or where, or why.

It was as he passed from the edge of the Ascent into the Plateau proper, in the evening, that he finally spotted them. There was a dragon following him - a wildclaw, by the looks of it, though they were too far away and too hard to look at to really see. He felt a prickling fear start at the back of his skull and run down his spine. Someone  _ was _ following him, and he didn’t know why. Someone was tracking him. This didn’t feel… good. It didn’t feel right. But he didn’t know who they were, or why, and something told him not to confront them.

Maybe they’d leave at the border of his clan’s territory. He hastened, flying faster. Ordinarily, he’d stop for the night, but… someone was  _ following him _ and he wanted to get home. For once, he missed the busy, crowded hallways of the central cavern network. He’d feel safe there. Out here, he was alone.

So he flew onwards, through the evening, towards Wide Sky territory. He flew past sunset, past the point where his wings were aching and his lungs screaming for breath, trying to reach his home before the dragon behind him could catch up.

When he crossed the territory border, he let out a breath. He was safe, now. Home. Whoever was following him would -

… apparently keep following him.

It was a moonlit night. Duskrunner steeled himself; he’d have to get back to the clan central and see if the guards there could help him escape this relentless pursuit.

Something else didn’t feel right, though. He felt a shivery feeling over his feathers, and like something was suddenly paying attention to him. But why? What was -

There was a distant screaming sound. Duskrunner looked up - there was someone in the air! Someone from his clan! He beat his wings harder, heading in towards the clan central. The shape in the air began to head towards him. Protection! Thank the Windsinger! Duskrunner was too out of breath to shout thanks to the interloper - was that Ruval?

Yes, that was Ruval. He waved a foreclaw in her direction wearily. She began to arc around towards him and the pursuer, hopefully to intervene.

Er - wait a minute - was she coming towards him?

Duskrunner had a few precious seconds to realize the scout was heading for  _ him _ and not for the dragon following him before she opened her jaws and screamed at him.

“ _ MURDERER!” _ Ruval screamed, at the top of her lungs, seconds before she crashed into him, knocking him clean out of the sky. They tumbled end over end and he had a few moments to think  _ Murderer? What? I didn’t - _ before Ruval dragged him into the bamboo below, crashing through the forest and leaving a decimated path behind them. Duskrunner struggled, but mostly he was confused.

Ruval flipped him over and slammed him into the ground. Stunned, Duskrunner stared up at her, barely struggling.

“You are a  _ monster,” _ Ruval hissed, leaning down next to his face. “You are a murderous, piece of shit  _ monster!” _

_ What?! _ “I - what are you talking about?!” Duskrunner managed back, baffled and now afraid.

The silhouette-dragon who had been following him swept overhead, wheeled around, and came in for a steep landing, coming down in the strip of smashed bamboo and trotting to a halt, folding her wings in. She was cloaked - but he now recognized her, those blue striped feathers and those dark wings and the brighter swirls on her body where she wasn’t covered in dyed leather.

“Pelagia?” he managed, struggling to breathe under Ruval’s weight sitting directly on his chest. “Wh - why are… what’s going on?”

“I ought to kill you where you lie, murderer,” Pelagia purred, smooth as ever as she stalked forward. “But it’s Windracer’s decree you be brought back alive to face trial, and Windracer’s words will be obeyed.”

W-what?! Duskrunner desperately tried to think through what he’d done recently that could have  _ possibly _ triggered this. The… was it the rabbit? He’d killed a particularly large rabbit earlier and eaten it. “Is this about the - rabbit?” he asked, confused, afraid.

Pelagia laughed. “Nice try,” she snarled. “We know what you did. We found his body. You  _ won’t _ get away with this.”

_ Body?! _ “Wh - body, what body, whose body?”

Pelagia’s lip curled. “Playing dumb, hm?” she hissed. “That’s fine. We’ll get the answer out of you, whether you want us to or not.”

Duskrunner’s blood felt thick and cool in his veins. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he managed, frantically. “I didn’t kill anybody! Did someone  _ die? _ Who? Why? How?!”

“As if you aren’t aware,” Pelagia snarled. “You’re the one that’s been doing it!”

“You murdered Hinterland, and then your  _ mate _ , and now you’re not even going to give him the honor of admitting you did it? You murdered him and you’re going to pretend you’re  _ ignorant?” _ Ruval shrieked, into his face. “You killed them both!”

_ Hinterland? _ But he was - he was just a young dragon, innocent - who would kill him?! “But he’s - who would -”  _ Wait - GALLICA?! _

Pelagia glanced up at Ruval. “Gallica, too?” she asked, almost conversationally. “That’s a new development.”

“Disappeared just after the first attack was discovered,” Ruval snarled. “He’s a monster. He killed them both.”

“Fascinating,” Pelagia growled. “One wasn’t enough for you, apparently. You murdered both of them, and you’re going to  _ pay _ for that crime.”

“You don’t even have anything to say about Gallica, huh? I suppose you don’t feel any remorse about dragging her out of her chambers and disposing of the body. It’s not like it’s that much worse than everything you did to her when she was alive. We didn’t even find  _ her _ ,” Ruval snapped. “Just like with Hinter.”

“You disgust me,” Pelagia sneered, derision evident in the twitch of her eyes, the roughness of her voice. “I’ll bind him. Ruval, hold him. We’re bringing him back.”

“I didn’t kill anyone!” Duskrunner managed to choke out, while Ruval leaned heavily on his throat. “I didn’t - I wouldn’t murder anybody! Not him, not Galli, I, I wouldn’t -”

“Tell that to the matriarch,” Pelagia hissed, “because you killed her grandson’s mate, and she’s  _ not _ pleased about what that’s done to him. You’re going to face punishment for more than just the murder, you wretched, monstrous little freak.”

_ I didn’t kill him, or Galli… I didn’t kill anybody, _ Duskrunner thought, staring up with wide eyes as Pelagia grabbed his muzzle and tied his mouth shut with a single expertly wrapped loop of rope. She lashed his jaws together, then tied it off and wrapped the rope around his head and neck; if he struggled, he’d just pull it tighter. Then she lashed his wings down and wrapped a short length of rope around both ankles so he wouldn’t be able to run.

Only then did Ruval let him up; he coughed, trying to suck in breath, his chest and neck aching from where the nocturne had been pressing her sharp scales into his flesh. “Get moving,” Pelagia growled, and as a last insult, wrapped a final length of blue rope around his neck for a leash and held it in one claw. “Back to Central with you,” she said, her deep green eyes flashing. “You have a  _ lot _ to answer for.”

_ I didn’t kill anyone, _ Duskrunner thought, numbly, as he was pulled to his feet and pointed towards Central.  _ I would never hurt any member of this clan, ever! _

Was that true, though? After all, when he’d seen his last son…

_ No! I never hurt him. He’s just asleep, safe. He’s not hurt. I would - I specifically didn’t hurt him, didn’t kill him. I would never, ever do that to a member of this clan. I’d never - I’d never kill one of them! Especially Hinterland, who’s done nothing wrong; I would - I didn’t kill anyone! _

But Ruval and Pelagia didn’t believe him. And he couldn’t speak now, couldn’t defend himself. All he could do was keep quiet, keep as calm as possible, and do what they asked at him. Maybe Windracer would see his innocence.

_ “...you killed her grandson’s mate, and she’s  _ not _ pleased about what that’s done to him… It’s not like it’s that much worse than everything you did to her when she was alive….” _

He prayed Windracer would see his innocence. Because then he’d be free to join the hunt for whoever  _ actually _ did this. Whoever had hurt Hinterland, hurt Gallica. Whoever was hunting  _ his clan _ and killing them. He was still trying to process what he’d been told, so he knew he wasn’t feeling the full emotional impact of the information - he knew he’d be struck by it later. But he also knew that as the facts stood, two of his clanmates were dead, murdered by… someone.

Duskrunner loved his clan above everything else. He loved his clan more than he’d loved Gallica, really, when it came down to it; that’s why he’d always been a courier, and that’s why he’d put his unnamed son down in the caverns, to keep the rest of them safe. It was for the clan, it was all for the clan, he’d  _ never _ hurt the clan -

He put his head down and walked.


	5. ...and Rescue

Reefglider skimmed over the dunegrasses. It was morning, and he was still searching. He’d woken up two hours earlier, before dawn, and immediately resumed his search.

There was one place he hadn’t checked yet, and it was a place he’d foolishly been avoiding. He knew it was smart to search there, but he…

He just hadn’t wanted to see it.

The place where they’d found Hinter’s blood. The sandy area on the river, where he’d been killed. Allegedly. Allegedly killed. Allegedly murdered. They’d searched the area for him but had found nothing. Riffle had even gone diving to look for his body and found nothing. Windracer was wary - but Hinter hadn’t returned to the clan central, nor had he shown up in any neighboring clan. So the current assumption was that he’d survived the attack, tried to get to safety or call for help, and left the area, then died elsewhere.

Or at least, that’s what it had been last time Reef had checked in with the clan. That was several days ago; he hadn’t been back since, too busy looking for Hinter, while steering clear of the sight of the murder. The attack. It wasn’t a murder, it was an attack. Hinter wasn’t dead. He’d - he’d feel it, right? That’s how it was, with mates? If his mate died, he’d just _know._ That’s how it was with mates.

And he didn’t feel that. He felt fear, and sorrow, and emptiness and loss when he was _told,_ yes, but there wasn’t that true sense of loss. Hinter had to be out here somewhere. He had to be.

So it was that Reefglider finally came sailing over the dunes and landed one away from the site of the attack. It hadn’t rained since then; he knew it would be preserved the way it had been before, barely touched by the wind, almost in stasis. They were waiting for Myrial to wake up after the unexpected reaction the site had given her and come analyze it properly. So it would look just like it had when they’d found it. With the blood -

Reef swallowed hard, steeled himself, and trotted over the last one, eyes forward. When he came over the crest of the dune, he immediately saw the big splotches of brown spattered throughout the sand, kicked up, smeared around. He flinched upon seeing it, but forced himself to walk down into the scene of the crime.

He knew exactly how large Hinter was, and he pictured him standing here, and then… what, being attacked by someone? Hinter would’ve flown, right? Or tried to get away, somehow. But he didn’t. Whatever happened, he didn’t try to get away.

Of course not, though. It was Duskrunner. Why would anybody run from Duskrunner? He was the clan’s courier, he was a friend, an ally, nobody would ever suspect him of attacking them. Nobody would ever expect him to kill -

Reef collapsed into the sand and burst into tears again. He missed Hinter, so badly it hurt to breathe. Hinter was so kind, and loving, and honest, and he didn’t deserve this! He didn’t _deserve_ to be attacked and killed by someone he knew and trusted! He didn’t deserve to be _murdered!_ Not that anybody deserved to be murdered, but - Hinter? _Hinterland?_ He was - he was harmless, he was lovable, he was just… him.

The river flowed by as Reefglider lay in the sand, sobbing, the water lapping against the pale shores. He knew that Hinter had been dragged into the water, according to the marks in the sand. And after that, no one knew what had happened.

Reef remind where he was for a good few minutes, until he got hiccups, and remembered he’d come here to _search_ for his missing boyfriend, not just cry over him. He dragged himself up from a sprawled mess into a sitting position, then stood, shaky, and padded to the water’s edge.

If he were Hinterland, what would he do? Be shocked, stunned, and horrified that someone had attacked him. He might try to drag himself into the water and float downstream. So…

Reefglider splashed into the river, then went limp in the current and let himself drift. This was fine. It’s not like he wanted to do much other than lay in the water and stare at nothing anyway. The river carried him towards the the nearby Sea of a Thousand Currents, and he drifted past little hummocks of grass in the flow, over deeper portions of the water and fish, down until he reached the delta.

The water was too shallow in most places for him to float over, so he had to walk from here. But would Hinter have walked? Could he have? He scoured the area for hours, walking back and forth over the delta, but found nothing - no tracks, no traces, no blood, no scent.

Then it was off-shore, in the delta’s outflow that led into the Sea. He didn’t want to look underwater - Hinter couldn’t breathe underwater, underwater meant he was gone - but he knew he had to.

He was doing his first dive, praying he didn’t find anything, when he caught a tug on the edge of his mind. A voice curled through his thoughts, physically echoed in his ears. “Someone, please, find us, find us…”

What? Who - what? Wait. He knew that voice. He blinked. “Who’s there?” he called, underwater; he was a guardian, and could breathe just fine in the Sea. “Who’s talking?”

“Find us… find us, please, someone find us…”

Not answering him, then. But that voice… he’d heard it before. Who was that? It wasn’t a dragon’s voice; it was too small, too dainty, except maybe for a fae. But that was no fae voice. It sounded… almost like, maybe, a beastclan, or -

A maren. A maren - that was a maren. That was Vhaareni. He’d heard her speak a hundred times. That was Vhaareni, _Hinterland’s friend!_

“Vhaareni!” he shouted, plunging forwards into the mud and silt of the near-shore seabed. “Vhaareni, where are you? I’m here! I’m listening!”

If that was Vhaareni, and she was saying ‘us…’

 _“Where are you?”_ Reef shouted, looking around frantically. No, wait, he had to listen. He had to listen, try and hear where she was. He shut his mouth and eyes and frowned, staring at nothing, trying to hear her.

Yes - there it was again, her voice! He turned to his right and followed it along the shore, thanking the absent Tidelord for his powerful, water-adapted form, and hunted back and forth until the voice grew stronger. Then he followed Vhaareni’s call.

Down, down, under the sand and rock, he found a cave. Just a little one. But it was a cave, and inside the cave was air, and when he dove deep into it and then popped his head up and gasped in the air he saw nothing but a faint, dull red glow in the center of the room.

“Vhaareni?” he called, quietly. “Is - is that you? Are you here?”

There was a quiet stirring. “Who - Reefglider?” came the maren’s little voice.

“Yes, it’s me, do you have Hinter? Where is he, do you know?”

“I - yes, I do, he’s here, but he’s hurt,” she called back, in the darkness.

Hurt. Not dead. Just hurt. Reefglider choked on his own breath. “Let me see,” he begged, paddling in the water. “Please let me see, I need to see him, please.”

The glow brightened until it was a red radiance filling the room. Vhaareni was curled up in a puddle of water in the center of the chamber, on a stone platform, radiating light from her iridescent scales. Flopped unconscious on the rock around her was Hinterland, wounded but alive, with a huge cut down his neck and several more across his chest and shoulders. Cuts from a wildclaw’s killing claw, alright. 

But he was alive.

Reefglider felt the rocks scrape and cut his chest and stomach as he frantically hauled himself out of the water and leaped over to Hinterland, heart pulsing in his throat. His mate was _alive._ He dropped down next to him and curled around him, extending one wing to cover him and Vhaareni both. “Hinter,” he managed, already with tears spilling out onto his face, “Hinter, it’s me, I’m here.”

“He’s not conscious,” Vhaareni said, and she sounded exhausted. “I’ve been keeping him alive down here. He’s alive, but he’s very badly hurt, and I’m worried that if we don’t get him help, he’ll die.”

Hinter was cold to the touch, and Reef snuggled closer, hoping he could warm him up. Even ice dragons weren’t meant to be that cold, not normally, unless they were mages, or something. Hinter was nature. He was in danger. Reef laid his head next to his mate’s, nudging him gently, trying to give him warmth and life.

“What, um, happened?” he asked, quietly. “The, did Duskrunner really…?”

Vhaareni shook her head. “It wasn’t Dusk,” she said. “It was Gallica. Gallica said that Dusk had killed someone, and that it was Hinter, and then she attacked him and left him for _dead_ but she planted Duskrunner’s feathers around. She used some kind of weird knife for it? I - I don’t know, I was watching from the water. I guess she forgot I existed.”

Reef’s mind _reeled._ “Gallica?” he said, stunned. “But - huh? She, why, what?”

“She must really hate him,” Vhaareni said sadly. “I think she was trying to frame him for… this. She wants him gone, I guess.”

“So she, she tried to kill my Hinter to do it?”

“Yeah,” Vhaareni said, nodding sadly.

“Why?! Why Hinter?”

Vhaareni looked up, her soft face grave. “Because he didn’t deserve it,” she said. “I think she needed to hurt someone who didn’t earn it to make everyone else really angry.”

Reefglider thought for a moment. Gallica, who hated Duskrunner, had attacked and tried to kill Hinterland in order to hurt Duskrunner. And Hinter wasn’t the target here. He was just a useful person to kill, because it would infuriate literally the _entire_ clan.

“She’s a bad person,” Reef said quietly. “She’s missing, too, now, and everybody thinks Duskrunner got her.”

“That can’t be true. He’s not even involved,” Vhaareni said, shaking her head. “She must be counting on that, doing it on purpose.”

This was beyond Reef. He shook his head and pressed himself closer to Hinter. “I - I don’t know anything about that,” he whispered. “I just want Hinter to be okay…”

“Then we need a healer,” Vhaareni said. Her voice was ragged now. “I’ve been keeping him alive for days. He’s so cold. You need to find a healer for him. I have to use all my attention and focus and magic to keep him from dying.”

“I - I’ll go get one,” Reef said. “But I can - I can warm him up, at least, right? I can do that. Will that help? Please. I want to help. I want to be close to him.”

Vhaareni relented. “...fine,” she said, “but after he’s warmed a little, _please_ go and fetch a healer. We need one. Without one, he’ll die.”

“I spent the past week believing he was dead,” Reef countered. “I just… I just want to know that he isn’t, for a little while, okay?”

“...okay.”

Reef stood and moved to Hinter’s other side, then nosed his way underneath Hinter’s wing and lay down against his chest. That was the more effective way to warm up a dragon who’d gotten very cold, he knew; you gave them heat in the front of their body, not the back. He snuggled closer. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, to his unconscious mate. “It’s gonna be fine. I’m gonna warm you up, and then I’m gonna go and get Aurelai and bring him down here, and everything is gonna be okay. It’s gonna be alright and you’re going to live and we’re going to go home and be happy, okay? Okay.”

Vhaareni said nothing, sinking back into the magic. Reef knew she probably wouldn’t respond until later, when he came back with Aurelai; she didn’t really like talking to dragons other than Hinter, even Reef. She was nervous around them. Which made sense, they were dragons.

Not the point. He’d found Hinter. He had to keep working to make sure his beloved lived, of course, but he’d _found him._ Everyone was _wrong._ He was alive, and well, and he’d be able to _survive_ if Reef was good enough.

He had to be good enough.

He had to.


	6. Trial by Noonlight

A flicker, a falter, a failure. And something stirred in the deep dark.

* * *

It was just before noon when Pelagia and Ruval returned to the clan Central, with Duskrunner in tow. He felt himself being stared at from all sides, accusing eyes, hostile eyes, staring and watching and hating. The most hateful of them were from Aelius, which crushed Dusk’s heart; he’d been around when Aelius was only a child, he’d seen that dragon grow up. And now he was looking at Duskrunner with an expression of utter disgust and fury.

_ I didn’t do this, whatever happened! _ Duskrunner wanted to scream, but he couldn’t - his mouth was bound shut. He was paraded through the halls. Pelagia had taken his courier satchel and the knife that he carried, as well as his belt and its bags, which contained a few useful tools - a firestarter, some rope - and a little carved stone that reminded him of home that he liked to have around. That was all he had! He didn’t have a murder weapon or anything!

Finally, though, he was brought to the clan’s largest meeting-chamber. It seemed Windracer had already been alerted to his capture, because she was waiting, tall and silent with her wings folded in and her tail wrapped around her paws, at the head of the room, on a raised stone platform. Light streamed down from above, in through the skylights and windows, and a great deal of the rest of the clan gathered around, watching. Hostility hummed in the air; even Dusk could feel it, though he was no skydancer.

“We’ve brought you a murderer,” Pelagia announced, and shove Duskrunner forward. He stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to keep standing even as he tripped over the rope that bound his ankles together.

“Unbind his mouth,” Windracer ordered. “I wish to hear him speak.”

_ Thank you, _ Duskrunner thought, fervently. Windracer was flanked by Helios and three skydancers: Ironwood, Changeling, and Raphide. The skydancers exchanged surprised glances as Dusk thought that, their antennae twitching. 

Pelagia radiated disgust, but she headed forward anyway and struck out swiftly, knocking Dusk’s feet out from under him. He staggered and went down onto the stone floor, and then Pelagia lashed forward with one kill-claw and cut the rope that held his jaw shut. His muscles ached from being held in place for so long, and he stretched his head and neck when the ropes keeping them bound went lax.

“Duskrunner,” Windracer said, gravely, “you are accused with the murder of Hinterland, and the abduction and potential murder of Gallica, and the assault of Myrial.”

_ Myrial?! He’d never hurt Myrial! _ Duskrunner was stunned. Nobody had mentioned Myrial to him! He glanced around frantically, but now that he was looking, she wasn’t here, and she definitely should have been.  _ What happened?! _

Monolith took over, standing from her position near the platform. She seemed stiff and angry.  _ If she thinks I hurt Myrial, I can see why. But I - I didn’t! But they need evidence, not just my word. D**n it! _

“It is believed by evidence found at the scene that one week ago you attacked and killed Hinterland on the banks of the Norworthy River, near the delta that leads to the Sea,” Monolith said. “There, his blood was discovered, and your feathers, though we do not know what happened to the body.”

_ Oh, by the Eleven… _

“We tracked your feathers and trail and found that you had likely diverted from your path outwards that morning to target Hinterland, then returned to it, resuming your courier duties. Pelagia was sent to track you down after the attack. Shortly after the news broke, Gallica’s chamber was found empty and destroyed, with many of her possessions broken and her blood evident in the room, as well as more of your feathers.”

Pelagia seemed to be listening to this intently. Now, though, she was frowning. Something wasn’t making sense to her.  _ It’s because this wasn’t me! _ Duskrunner thought frantically, but said nothing out loud, not yet.

“When my mother, Myrial, was examining the scene,” Monolith continued, “she was struck down by some unknown magic that keeps her in shock even now, a kind of stasis of some type. We don’t know how you did that, but we suspect you may have contacted another clan to commission a spell specifically for this instance.”

“What?” Duskrunner finally managed. “I - what? No!”

Monolith stared at him. “Myrial is still in the same state, unable to recover while this spell holds her hostage. Hinterland is dead, and Gallica is missing and presumed dead. You are the primary suspect. What say you in your defense?”

Duskrunner shook his head, baffled. “I have  _ no idea _ what you’re talking about,” he said, finally. “I - I don’t know what’s going on, or who attacked and apparently  _ killed _ Hinterland, or what happened to my ex-mate, or anything! I don’t know what’s going on, but I know I would never, ever harm a member of this clan. I would  _ die _ before letting any of you come to harm, if I could prevent it. You know I would. I used to be a warrior, and now I’m a courier, but I would fight to my last breath if it meant protecting this clan!” He took a breath; his chest ached, ribcage complaining from where Ruval had bruised it earlier. “I did not kill Hinterland. I did not kill Gallica.  _ I don’t know what’s going on. _ I just came back from the south of the Isles, where I was delivering messages to a halfway point to take them to Clan Starscatter, and picked one up to bring it back here. That’s  _ it. _ I - I’m as confused as you are!”

The skydancers watched him carefully, then glanced at each other. Windracer looked at each of them in turn.

“Well, he’s not lying,” Changeling finally said, shuffling his wings. “So, that’s… interesting.”

Unexpectedly, Pelagia stepped forward. “I call into question his abduction of Gallica,” she said, voice ringing out clearly. “I followed his trail. He did not double back to Central. He did not go to Gallica’s chambers. Whatever happened to her, he was not responsible for it.”

Dusk glanced over, eyes wide. Pelagia was… well, she wasn’t a good person, but she was an honest one, and she followed the rules she set for herself, always. If she was saying this, it was because she believed it. “However,” she continued, “I still believe he was responsible for Hinterland’s death.”

“You’re sure?” Monolith questioned, staring at Pelagia. “He didn’t attack Gallica?”

“I am certain of it.”

Monolith paused, frowning. “Then who…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aelius interrupted. “He killed Hinterland, and he must pay for that.”

“I didn’t!” Duskrunner protested. “I wouldn’t!”

“You did, and you have torn something precious from my son,” Aelius snarled back. “You took the thing that matters most from him.”

“I  _ didn’t!” _ was the only thing Dusk could say in response. He hadn’t! He hadn’t killed anybody! He glanced around, but Reefglider wasn’t here, either. His heart twisted in his chest; poor Reefglider… the entire clan knew how much those two loved each other. It was the kind of love Dusk had never felt, not with Gallica, not with anyone. To have that ripped apart… He felt horrible, and he felt angry, absolutely furious, that someone would do this to a member of his clan. His clan, that he was supposed to protect!

No. No, he wasn’t, not anymore. He’d become a courier, because Gallica had asked him to. So that he wouldn’t be in danger. So that he’d be around for his children. Which he promptly wasn’t.

Guilt, then, is what he felt, with that anger and sorrow. The skydancers watched him curiously. “Hm,” Ironwood said. “I’m not certain…”

“I feel upset,” Dusk informed him curtly, “because I’m thinking about my own failures, not because I  _ murdered someone. _ I should’ve been here to help protect him, except I’m the courier, so I guess that’s  _ not _ my job anymore. But he’s part of my clan, I should have - I don’t know! I should have been able to do something to help? I don’t know. I didn’t kill him, and I don’t know who did, but if you found my feathers there, then they were put there by someone else, or - or something! I don’t know! I just know I  _ didn’t kill him! _ ”

This was all too much. Duskrunner put his face in his hands, pressing them against his eye-ridges. It was all just too much.

“Tell that to my son,” Aelius growled.

“I will, if you bring him here,” Dusk shot back. “I swear it upon my life, upon this clan’s existence, upon the Windsinger. I swear it with every part of me. I didn’t do it.”

There was a pause. Aelius opened his mouth, shut it, and suddenly pulled his head back, his eyes going wider. He looked slowly over the crowd, then around the whole room, then towards the entryway.

“...where is my son?” he asked, softly.

Burnish frowned, shaking her head. “He went out to look for Hinterland,” she said, “since no one had found his body. But that was… that was several days ago, wasn’t it?”

“He hasn’t checked in in several days,” Radiance said, across the cavern. “Burnish, I thought he was with you.”

“I thought he was coordinating with the patrols!”

“No, I thought - uhhh,” Radiance said, and blinked. “Uh, that’s not good. The last thing we need is  _ another _ missing dragon.”

Duskrunner glanced around. Aelius’ gaze migrated back to him and locked on, and the huge orange guardian stood and stalked forward.  _ “Where is my son, _ ” he hissed.

“Not here, and I doubt this one knows where he is,” Pelagia countered. “He’s been out of the territory ever since the day of the murder.”

“Wh - is he missing too?!” Duskrunner asked, quietly. His claws itched; he wanted to  _ do _ something about all this. “No, no, come on…”

“If something happened to him, it wasn’t because of Dusk,” Pelagia said. “I can assure you of that.”

There was a pause. “Then… what’s going on?” asked one of the assembled clanmates.

Windracer shifted, putting a paw forward, with her claws out; they shone in the sunlight. “It seems we do not have all the pieces of this puzzle,” she rumbled. “Duskrunner, you will remain here, bound and in custody, but we will speak further. I think things are more complicated than we understand them to be.”

Where was Gallica? Who killed Hinterland? What happened to Reef? Duskrunner was baffled, confused, stunned, afraid. He glanced around, hoping someone would have answers for him; but they did not.

“Duskrunner,” Windracer said gravely, “you will remain here at all times, under guard. You will  _ not _ leave Central until Reefglider is located and brought safely home. You will remain under guard until Gallica is located and Hinterland’s murderer is positively identified. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Windracer nodded. She looked to the rest of the clan. “I want the territory locked down,” she ordered. “No one enters, no one leaves. Put Central into lockdown. We will find the source of this trouble, and we will remedy it, and justice will be served. Pelagia, you are our best tracker. Find Reefglider.”

“As you wish,” Pelagia murmured, bowing.

“Thank you.” Windracer raised her head, bright green eyes set in a cold expression. “You have brought Duskrunner back to us, but this is not over. I fear he is simply a part in a greater plan.”

“Whose plan, then?” Aelius asked, his spines standing on end. “Who’s plan has involved the disappearance of my son and the murder of his mate?”

“That, I do not know,” Windracer said, “but I suspect we will find out before long. Come, Duskrunner. I will take you back to your chambers.”

And at that, there was a sound at the door. A scraping and shuffling sound, accompanied by a heavy exhale and a muttered exclamation. Windracer frowned, staring out at the hallway. In the stone archway stood a massive, shimmery blue imperial with green wings and a golden-scaled underbelly. “Hey,” she said, and yawned, shaking her mane out of her pink eyes. “I think there was some kinda problem in the Deep Caves, ‘cause this is  _ not _ the way i was supposed to wake up. Can someone tell me what’s going on?”


End file.
